Protesters at a New York rally for Planned Parenthood, September 2015.
Photograph: Andy Katz/Demotix/Corbis

In September last year, activist Amelia Bonow told everyone she knows – frankly and without shame – about her abortion. That simple yet deeply taboo gesture snowballed into an international destigmatisation campaign called #ShoutYourAbortion (full disclosure: I helped), which Bonow is expanding in 2016 – a welcome development as the US barrels toward an election that could put women’s reproductive health services in jeopardy.

For years, pro-choicers have been on the defensive, letting the far right define not just the timbre of the conversation about abortion (hushed, apologetic), but who abortion-seekers and providers are (murderers, criminals). My mother, from the 1970s through the 90s, worked at several hospitals where she was among only a handful of nurses willing to assist on abortions. One fellow nurse was a devotee of Operation Rescue (“Be a hero, save a whale; save a baby, go to jail”), the anti-choice group that – among other acts of stalking gussied up as “direct action” – gave the murderer of Kansas abortion doctor George Tiller the specifics of his schedule and whereabouts. (After surviving multiple firebombings and a previous assassination attempt in which Tiller was shot five times, Dr Tiller was shot point-blank in the head during services at his church in 2009.) This nurse wouldn’t even perform vasectomies, because every sperm is a “pre-born” treasure. Those are the people who are still framing how we talk about abortion; right now, in 2016, those people are being coddled by mainstream politicians.

That’s why the left finds itself mired in pusillanimous rhetoric such as “safe, legal and rare”, which, despite lip service to legality, applies a scolding moralism to this normal, common medical procedure (the “correct” number of abortions is precisely the number of pregnant people who want them – no more, no less). One in three people with uteruses have had one. That’s not “rare”, whether pandering moderates like it or not.

Bonow wants to take the conversation back. If we’re not ashamed of having abortions, why should we pretend we are, out of deference to bigots who hate us? To that end, #ShoutYourAbortion’s next big project is simple and sweet: compiling a sheaf of thank-you letters to deliver to abortion providers, who are largely unappreciated and often vilified due to stigma, who face mobs of screaming protesters every day just to go to work. In the US, at least 11 people – doctors, volunteers, receptionists, patients, friends – have been killed by anti-choice terrorist attacks on abortion clinics since 1993; between 1973 and 2003, abortion providers were targeted with fatal and non-fatal extreme violence more than 300 times; in 2008, nearly 90% of US abortion clinics reported harassment. Providers risk death in service to women’s lives, but are rarely thanked for it because abortion is supposed to be a “dirty secret”. Well, not any more. Here’s my letter:

The annual March for Life at the US Supreme Court, January 2015 in Washington. Photograph: Alex Wong/Getty Images

Dear Doctor,

I think we tend to overlook the humanity of doctors in general. Even though going to the doctor – allowing someone to inspect our bodies, take our blood, parse our fears, help us live, help us die – is one of the most intense interpersonal relationships in the human playbook, we’re also prone to thinking of doctors as impassive, objective robots that exist only to fix us. We demand miracles and dispense little in return. So, thank you for being there. Thank you for your work and care.

To abortion providers, specifically, to say that you are superhuman would actually belittle your accomplishments: the fight to keep abortion accessible to all lays bare not some supernatural saviour, but the magnificent human capacity for fortitude and compassion. That is not a magic trick; it is your sweat and bravery.

I am profoundly grateful to the providers at the clinic where I had my abortion, who treated me with a combination of bracing kindness and even-keeled efficiency, saying with every gesture, “This is normal. This is OK.” But I live in a liberal city with relatively little anti-abortion activity; I could afford to travel if I needed to; my family is progressive, loving, and present. I especially want to thank those of you who serve far more vulnerable people in far more dangerous places. You are so important.

Thank you for fighting to keep your clinics open, even though there is no incentive but radical altruism, and even though for so many years we have been afraid to say thank you in public. Thank you for believing in women’s power, autonomy and right to steer our own lives. Thank you for my career and my beautiful family. Thank you, thank you, thank you.